


Things Not Said

by Denise



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2846372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denise/pseuds/Denise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of their rescue from Hathor, it's what they don't say that matters</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Not Said

Things Not Said

By

Denise  


 

His fingers dug into the material of his pants, his fingernails scraping against the coarse material. His knuckles ached with the pressure but he relished the pain. The pain grounded him, calmed him. It was an anchor that kept him from spiraling out of control.

 

Voices washed over him and Jack forced himself to pay attention.

 

“The report’s accurate,” Makepeace said. “I did let Captain Carter go back into the complex to turn the shield off. Rescuing Jack wasn’t part of the plan.” He looked over at Jack. “Sorry.”

 

Jack shrugged. “I probably would have done the same thing,” he said, more because it was the expected response. He really didn’t know if he’d have decided to leave Makepeace behind. He wasn’t ready for Monday morning quarterbacking. Not yet. There’d be time for that later. Like when he knew he wouldn’t lose his temper and take it personally that the jarhead decided to leave him for dead.

 

“Regardless of that, there is still the matter of Lieutenant Bremerton’s report,” Hammond said, holding up a sheet of paper. “The lieutenant suggests that the delay in Captain Carter’s deactivation of the shield directly resulted in the death of at least two SG team members.”

 

“That’s bull,” Makepeace said. “I told her if she could shut down the shield to time it with the reinforcements you said were coming in six hours. It didn’t matter if she found the generators in 15 minutes or five hours. And she took them down right when I told her to. If anything, if she’d set the charges and rejoined us she could have been captured too.”

 

“I would agree,” General Hammond said. “Except for the matter of Hathor’s death.”

 

“A dead snake is a good snake, sir,” Jack said.

 

Hammond nodded. “And Captain Carter witnessed you killing Hathor?”

_‘We would just like you to go away!’_

_The goa’uld vanishing into the clouds of vapor._

_The shrill scream of her host as they fell._

_The faint splash and thunk as they hit bottom._

_Clinging to the railing as his knees threatened to give way, desperately trying to figure out if it was real. Was she really dead? Or was it another trick?_

_The crumpled form on the floor. Was she alive?_

_Pulling her up, wrapping her in his arms. Feeling her warmth, her breath brushing against his neck._

_A physical confirmation of reality, of life._

 

 

“Yeah, she did,” he said.

 

“And Captain Carter’s own report notes her confrontation with Hathor and the fact that had your intervention kept Hathor from potentially killing her,” Hammond said.

_Lying in the chamber, so cold that he couldn’t even shiver. His mind struggled to comprehend, the pain of the goa’uld tearing at his memory. Was it over? Was it a trick? Or was it like all the other mind games the symbiote had played on him?_

_A hand was on his chest, feeling fiery warm after the cold. ‘_ Colonel? I don't feel its presence’. _Carter. Carter was here? How could she be here? ‘You’re going to be all right.’_

_Hope began to bubble in Jack’s gut. Over? Was it over?_

_‘We had hopes for you.’ Hathor. The bitch. Was she here? Why was she here? To take him. No. She would not take him._

_Primal fear moved him to push his body to move. Flee. Run. Fight._

_Jack tumbled out of the chamber and landed on his hands and knees. The blood red of Hathor’s skirts filled his vision. No. Wait. That sound. Pain. Who was in pain? He looked past Hathor to see Carter fall to her knees, the saffron yellow of the hand device holding her firm._

_She was going to kill her. That bitch was going to kill Carter._

_‘No,’ he muttered, pulling himself to his feet. This was NOT going to happen._

 

 

“Can’t say that I recall a lot,” Jack said. He gestured towards his head. “Might be kinda freezer burned.”

 

Hammond frowned and glanced at Makepeace for a second then sighed. “I’ve never been big on getting caught up on what if’s,” he said. He laid the report down on his blotter. “You get too hung up on what might have been’s you’ll make yourself crazy.”

 

“General, the simple faces are Carter got the shield down and if Jack hadn’t been able to bluff Trofsky, we’d all be dead.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t in the room, so I’m not going to second guess.”

 

Hammond nodded. “Thank you, Colonel. Dismissed.” Jack and Makepeace got to their feet. “Jack.” He motioned for him to sit. They waited for Colonel Makepeace to leave and shut the door behind him.

 

“Sir, if you expect me to toss her under the bus…”

 

Hammond shook his head. “No, Colonel, I don’t. What’s done is done. “ He leaned back in his chair. “I honestly can’t think if it’d have done anything differently if I were in her shoes. We don’t leave our people behind. She saw the chance to free you and took it. And, honestly, for all we know she could have run into Hathor in the hall when you wouldn’t have been there to neutralize her. Or Hathor could have taken you away with her and we’d have a goa’uld out there with intimate knowledge of our defenses.”

 

“Then, with all due respect, sir, I don’t get what this is all about.”

 

Hammond leaned forward. “As you know, Colonel, Carter’s up for promotion to Major.”

 

“Yeah, and she damn well better get it,” Jack said.

 

Hammond tapped the report on his desk. “If the wrong person on the promotions board reads this…”

 

“General—“

 

Hammond shrugged. “It may not matter. One report out of a dozen…could just come across as fog of war but…I thought you should know.”

 

“Thanks, sir, I appreciate it,” Jack said, getting to his feet.

 

Hammond got to his feet as well and picked up his brief case. “I’m going home and you should too,” he said. “God knows you deserve some time off. You have seventy-two hours, use them.”

 

“Sir.”

 

The general left his office and Jack followed, making his way through the briefing room. It was late and the SGC was quiet. Military bases never really shut down and it wasn’t uncommon for a team to disembark in the middle of earth’s night to arrive at planetary dawn, but there was a distinct difference between day and night. Jack knew that the control room had just a skeleton staff and, unless required to be on duty, most of the personnel were home.

 

He slowly walked through the briefing room and down the spiral stairs to the control room. Nodding at the tech on duty, he made his way into the gate room. Despite his best efforts, the memories washed over him. Walking through the mock gate room with Trofsky. The crushing pain at the loss of his team. Feeling lost and overwhelmed by grief. How could it have happened? Why did only he survive?

 

He’d felt sick and numb all at the same time.

 

He stepped up onto the ramp, the familiar clang no longer a sound of home and safety. She’d replicated it. He didn’t know quite how Hathor had pulled it off, but she’d been able to make the same metal grate.

Panic welled up in his chest as his eyes darted around the room. It was real, wasn’t it? He WAS home. It was over and the snake was gone.

 

He resisted the urge to reach up and feel the back of his neck. He wouldn’t touch it. He couldn’t. People couldn’t see him doing that. He dug his fingers into his pants leg, gathering the fabric in a death grip. He couldn’t give in. It was dead. Carter said it was dead. Frasier said it was dead. Hell, even Teal’c said it was dead. It was gone, it was over. It—

 

“Colonel?” Sergeant Bates hesitant voice broke into Jack’s thoughts. “Sir, I’m sorry but we have a team due to come back. I don’t think you want to be up on the ramp…sir.”

 

Jack shook his head, banishing his thoughts. He forced his hand open and pasted a slight smile onto his face. “No, Sergeant, no problem. Let me get out of your way.”

 

Jack left the room, doing his best to keep his pace even and a pleasant expression his face. Maybe Hammond was right. He needed to go. Needed to get out of here and get away. Get away and get it under control.

 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

 

Sam sat up in bed, her heart pounding in her chest and sweat rolling down her back. “Damn,” she muttered, drawing up her knees and resting her head on them. As her breathing slowed she raised her head and opened her eyes. A glance at the clock confirmed that it was long past midnight and she knew there’d be no more sleep, not for a while anyway.

 

She pushed back the covers and slid out of bed. Leaving the lights off, she picked up a hoodie and slipped it on, padding her way out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. She reached into the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer, grabbing the hem of her sweatshirt to cushion her hand as she twisted off the cap.

 

She made her way to the livingroom and curled up on the couch, leaving the lights off. Between the ambient light of the neighborhood and her night vision, the room was far from dark, which was good because she really wasn’t in the room for lights.

_‘God no.’_

 

 

She shook her head, trying to banish the memories. She could still hear it. The sound of the goa’uld tearing into the colonel’s flesh, his grunts of pain as he fought.

 

She took a draw of the beer and leaned back, staring out the window. She couldn’t ignore it. She knew that much from the last couple of years. If you tried to bury it, it’d just get bigger and bigger and then people would notice. And people couldn’t notice. Noticing was bad. Noticing brought questions and questions led to complications. And the last thing she needed was complications.

 

A vehicle parked across the street and she watched, idly wondering which of her neighbors was having a late night. She sipped her beer, frowning when the driver didn’t get out of their truck. Was it her imagination or was that truck familiar? She got up and walked to the window to get a better look.

 

“What the hell?” she muttered, recognizing the silhouette.

 

Curious, she left the window and walked to the front door. She unlocked the door and stepped outside, belatedly realizing that she was still barefoot and carrying her beer. She shrugged and continued, walking down her front walk and across the street. “Colonel? Is something wrong? What brings you to here at 0’too early in the morning?”

 

“Probably the same thing that has you drinking a beer in the dark in the middle of the night,” he fired back.

 

She nodded. “Did you want to come in or just keep sitting out here? And, before you answer you should probably know that Mrs. Patterson has insomnia and likes to call the police if she sees something she doesn’t like.”

 

Jack frowned for a second. “Yeah, maybe I could come in for a minute,” he said. She stepped back and he got out of his truck, following her back into her house.

 

“Beer?” she offered, snapping on a lamp as she led him into the living room.

 

“Sure, why not.”

 

He sat down and she returned in a few seconds, handing him a cold bottle of beer before she took a seat across from him. Jack took a drink of the beer and stared at her while she did the same. “So,” she shrugged.

 

“So.”

 

“You came here.”

 

“You invited me in.”  


“You said yes.”

 

“That I did,” he agreed, taking another drink of the beer. “I aah, I was going to tell you when you get back you may want to give Lieutenant Bremerton a bit of a wide berth.”

 

“Why? What’s wrong?”

 

“He’s making a fuss about getting the shield down.” Jack held up his hand as she started to protest. “Makepeace, Hammond and I are handling it but you need to stay out of his way until he gets his head on straight.”

 

“Colonel, I—“

 

“I’ll make it an order if I have to,” he interrupted.

 

She shrugged. “Fine, I’ll stay out of his way. That was so important that you needed to come over in the middle of the night?”

 

He leaned back and his hand crept towards the back of his neck. “How’s your head?” he asked, his left hand fisting his pants leg so hard his knuckles turned white.

 

“My…ooh.” She touched the healing scab on her temple. “It’s fine. Little sore but Janet said the MRI was clean. No permanent damage.”

 

“Those things were a pain in the ass.”

 

“I’m just glad it’s not hooked up to the big screen anymore,” she said, grimacing slightly. “Little awkward.”

 

“Ya think?”

 

“What did they ask you about?” _‘What images did your brain show them?’_

 

“Oh you know, allies and stuff like that.”

 

“Same here. You know I should have suspected something when Raleigh didn’t know that Apophis was dead.”

 

“Raleigh said you were pretty drugged. Nothing like a good buzz to addle the brain.” _‘I’m cynical and expect the worst, I’m glad you don’t.’_

 

“At least she survived,” Sam said. “Garshaw was glad to have her back. And if it wasn’t for her getting the word out where we were…” She trailed off and shrugged, not in the mood to speculate just how dire their fate would have been.

 

A silence fell between them and Sam saw his hand twitch, half raise towards the back of his neck before he forced it down, his fingers digging into and bunching up the loose fabric of his pants.

 

“It’s gone, you know,” she said. His eyes shot to hers. “I saw it in the cryochamber. It’s very, very dead. I think Janet even has it in a test tube somewhere.”

 

“Carter.”

_‘I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it. I’m sorry we left you behind.’_ “You just…your hand,” she said. “I did that a lot after…”

 

He stared at his hand and deliberately unclenched it, flexing the fingers with deliberate casualness. “That’s not what I’m doing,” he said. She frowned.

 

 

 

_He held her in his arms, selfishly trying to warm his body with hers. She was alive. Hathor hadn’t killed her. His brain knew that but his heart needed confirmation. He wasn’t alone. They hadn’t left him behind. It wasn’t Iraq again. And she couldn’t be alone. His hand felt along her side. BDU’s. The gunfire he heard._

_Help was here. She was here. Holding her in his arms wasn’t enough. He dug his fingers into her jacket, the rough material grounding him, calming him, allowing him to focus. She was talking and something told him that he needed to pay attention._

_‘-Trofsky’s got us cut off from the stargate. He's using an energy barrier. It originates from somewhere in this facility. The plan is to blow it before General Hammond sends reinforcements.’_

_Reluctantly he loosened his grip and pushed her back so he could look at her face. ‘And how do we plan to do that?’ he asked, his fear and terror compartmentalized. He’d deal with it later, when they were safe._

 

 

  
“Muscle spasm,” he said, flexing his hand. He couldn’t tell her the real reason. He couldn’t tell her that she was his sanity. She grounded him. Her presence kept him from screaming. Kept him from curling up in a ball and hiding from the world. He couldn’t lay that on her because he knew her. He knew how she cared and her drive to fix and to heal.

 

He couldn’t burden her with trying to fix him.

 

“Right,” she said, clearly not believing him.

 

“I should go,” he said, setting down his mostly full bottle of beer and getting to his feet.

 

“Colonel—“

 

“I don’t want to give your neighbor too much to talk about,” he said, making his way to the door as she followed him. “I’ll see you in a couple days.”

 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

 

Sam watched him walk to his truck and get in. In just a minute he was gone, the tail lights of his truck fading into the distance. She was torn between regret and relief as she turned off the light and sat back down in the darkness of her living room.

 

Close. It had been so close.

 

The last few days had been such an emotional roller coaster that she felt like she was riding in a car careening out of control.

 

The crushing loss of thinking everyone was dead.

 

Clinging to trying to solve a puzzle to keep from screaming.

 

Confusion as she opened her eyes to see the colonel standing over her.

 

Joy and relief to find him alive.

 

Fear at being captive.

 

Curiosity as they explored the facility.

 

Pain and fear as the memory device went off.

 

Warmth and comfort when he pulled her into his arms, keeping her safe.

 

The crushing loss when he was possessed.

 

Relief at their rescue.

 

Anger at being kept from going back for him.

 

Triumph at finding a way.

 

Apprehension at what she’d find.

 

Resolve that he would come home…or he would die.

 

_She slipped back into the facility, her senses on overdrive. She hoped she wouldn’t meet any resistance. She shouldn’t. What few Jaffa that were here should be outside with Trofsky._

_She glanced at the scanner in her hand, letting it guide her towards a power source. Blowing the generator should be relatively easy, she knew that. The blocks of C4 in her vest guaranteed that she just needed to get close and they would take care of the rest._

_Her other – self-appointed – task would be so much harder._

_She had been powerless to prevent the colonel from being possessed by a goa’uld, but she could keep him from having to live with it._

_Her stomach churned at the thought but she knew it was the only thing she could do. Tactically she knew it was a good thing. That’s how she rationalized it to herself and what she’d tell the general._

_Tactically it was a good call._

_But tactics had nothing to do with her resolve._

_She couldn’t let him live like this. Couldn’t let him spend years, decades, being tortured, a prisoner in his own body._

 

 

 

He could never know. Never really know how close she had come to killing him. That if it hadn’t have been for Raleigh putting him in the cryochamber, she would have put a bullet in his brain.

 

He could never know the ‘what if’.

 

Never know that she cared for him so much that she’d rather lose him then let him suffer.

 

Never know.

 

~Fin~

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 Gateworld Secret Santa


End file.
